


Irrigation

by LenoirWhittlethorn



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Gen, Nudity, Sexuality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-14
Updated: 2015-06-14
Packaged: 2018-04-04 09:48:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4132971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LenoirWhittlethorn/pseuds/LenoirWhittlethorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another shower fic, this time featuring Mike~!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Irrigation

It was the end of a sixty hour work week and Mike felt it in his bone marrow. While the quiet morning was beginning to buzz with life, Mike shuffled into his apartment like a shadow. His hair was still damp from the mandatory shower he took at work, but there was no pleasure in taking it. The usual five minute shower was actually only a couple minutes today; Mike was so tired of the routine. 

He believed that coming home would make him relax, but his spine still felt rigid. What he did at work wasn’t a shower, it was running through a sprinkler. Mike dropped his backpack into the small laundry room and headed towards the bathroom. Being on the cusp of sleepiness was similar to being alert, except there was a constant heaviness behind his eyes. A part of him naively believed working hard and long would wear him out. That the nightmares wouldn’t form in his weary mind.

Mike let out a slow sigh from deep within as he willed his sore hands to pull off his gray hoodie that had his work’s logo on it. Got that a couple years ago for free as a reward for never calling in sick. He tossed the hoodie on the counter rather than the hamper because the clothes were fresh. As he carefully peeled off his white t-shirt with the faded comic book logos, Mike heard light scrapes and knew it was the scars on his back.

Some were small and crescent shaped, which a fraction of a smirk appeared on Mike’s face. But the longer scrapes made him cringe and his mind played a chorus of gasps that some of his exes released when their hands brushed over the larger scars. No medals gleamed harsher than the moonlight reflecting from their watering eyes. When he started his third shift job, so many years ago, he screwed up on a patch job and a heavy, steam filled pipe crashed on top of him. He learned real quick to adapt to being on the third shift. The other ones, well, he never spoke of them.

Only one pair of hands lingered on that scar; she lightly traced its outline and never broke eye contact. Mike shook his head, hoping her face would distort and fade away back into the shadows of his memories. Now she wouldn’t touch him to punch him and it felt wrong dwelling on her caresses. Those scrapes made the base of his spine tingle. He staggered out of his pants and he caught himself by holding onto the bathroom counter. His eyes briefly stared at his reflection and he noticed his face was flushed from thoughts of her. 

The phantom scent of her hair wafted into his nose and it was harder to remove his dark blue boxer briefs. Quickly taking off his socks, Mike avoided looking at the mirror and went to grab some towels. He placed the towels on the back of the toilet seat and stepped into the shower. Knowing full well that a frigid spray was going to smack him on the back, Mike turned on the shower. The sharp jolt made him grunt in shock, but at least the tension below eased. But the slow spread of warm water cascaded like delicate strokes from hesitant fingertips.

Mike stepped back, allowing the water to soak his damp mop of blonde hair. He shut his eyes and basked in soft spray, finally enjoying a shower. Water traced the circumferences of his dark nipples, before slinking down his abs, which Mike had only kept due to the annual check ups at work. Healthier workers got fatter bonuses. Plus, working out during free time or days off helped keeping his mind busy. And tired. 

He gently rubbed his hands over his chest and neck, a small frown on his face. Worker hands; calloused and clumsy. Nothing like her—their hands, but he massaged the knot at the base of his neck, desperate to relieve some tension. A low, soft moan vibrated within Mike’s throat as he kept an even pace. Once the knot loosened, Mike sighed deeply and turned around so that the hot spray could gently chop his neck. While he did clean up at work, it wouldn’t hurt to do a once over one more time.

The showers at work were no place for the lilac scented bar soap Mike preferred in private. Without even having to elevate himself, he reached for the bar soap nestled on a tiny shelf in the shower. He honestly couldn’t remember the last time he showered at home. Instead of doing the speedrun rubdown he enacted at work, Mike leisurely used the bar of soap, starting with his arms. The smoothness of the pastel bar caused goosebumps to form everywhere, but he didn’t stop to reminisce on fonder memories. 

Scar tissue on his hands acted as good grippers for the bar of soap, so it wasn’t a hassle to switch from one hand to the other or suddenly dipping into the underarms. Mike opened his mouth slightly and inhaled the scented steam and phantom or not, he enjoyed the delicate aroma. The tension rose and Mike sighed in frustration. He was too tired and his back snapped when he bent to wash his legs and feet. 

A deep flop of the blonde’s stomach made him roll his eyes. Mike convinced himself that every inch had to be lathered, besides it wasn’t like he was being timed. He let his mind wander and even when thoughts of her flickered through, he wearily accepted her drowsy, glowing smile. It only took a few extra minutes, but this shower did wonders for Mike and all the knots were gone from his body. Putting the bar of soap away, Mike reached for a bottle of shampoo and massaged his scalp with both hands. The face wash was the final step and he did one two turns to make sure he was completely rinsed off. 

Without thinking much of it, Mike ran his hands over his butt cheeks where more tiny scars accented. Now that he felt like he wasn’t stuck in a vice grip, Mike chuckled softly to himself. All the apologies afterwards or the shy massages in the afterglow. In a brief moment of playfulness, he squeezed his butt and a louder snort erupted from his throat. To him, it didn’t feel like much, but many women had argued otherwise. The water was cooling down, which Mike softly cursed at because he was trying to keep the water bill low. 

Mike shut off the shower and stepped out to dry himself off. He only bothered to put on his boxer briefs and hoodie, after all, his bed’s siren song was sounding pretty powerful by now. Mike carried his pants over to the bed and just as he sat on the cool sheets, his pants vibrated. Sighing groggily, Mike took his phone out of his pant’s pocket and looked at the number. A sharp gasp escaped him when he recognized the number.


End file.
